a blog about writing and drawing and making noise

I already have these books listed on My Book Shelf page, but most of you folks don’t visit that (the numbers don’t lie), so I figured I’d do something I rarely do these days, and actually post a link farm. I apologize for those hoping for a new, proper post from me, but I’m a little out of sorts and not feeling too chatty. Included with these links are the brief summaries I wrote for these books a week or two ago:

THE BACK ROADS OF LIMBO
A series of short stories and novellas about spies, sultans, genies, detectives, bad angels, a man’s best friend, the God of Squirrels, Christmas dinner for two, thieves, sorceresses, lost children, working while you sleep, writer’s block, soul-eating vampires, and a giant squid.PRINT | KINDLE

TERMINAL MONDAY: a Dream of New York City
A man meets an old girlfriend who convinces him to return to novel writing, but not before his wife leaves him, he gets his old band back together, and suffers a nervous breakdown.PRINT | KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

TERMINAL MONDAY: Under Observation
A man has a mental breakdown and wakes up to find himself under observation in a New York City hospital.KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

ASHES: Infinite Redress
A scientist becomes infected by a space-borne virus that contains the soul of an alien missionary who bonds with her and draws her into solving the mystery of how the aliens all died.KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

The BRIDE of WAR
A knight falls in love with a young woman designated to be sacrificed to a mystical dragon, and undertakes a quest to learn how to defeat the dragon and break the centuries-old pact.PRINT | KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

LINKTALES volume one
(excerpts from The Dark Guild) A series of mysterious events lead to the old city of Londonis being invaded by soul-eating vampires.KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

You know what I’m asking you to do. Please. Thank you.

Lee.

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Okay, no more politics today. Gotta get dressed and try to do a bit of cleaning in the kitchen. The cupboards need scrubbing. As it is, the exterminator will dally through here, declare it unclean, blame us for everything, and waltz out without placing so much as a trap, let alone some actual bait. I’m thinking of telling her to stay away if she’s not going to do anything constructive. Probably won’t. I’m Canadian. *sigh*

Listening to music to get some ambition going. The tea is helping, but not much. Caffeine is failing me a lot, lately. Time to consider a cocaine addiction, I suppose. Might lose weight, too.

Actually, I’m going to have my bipolar meds reviewed next Tuesday, so hopefully it won’t come to that.

Still haven’t finished the LRT song, though I did come up with a structure, a lyric, and the basic chord progressions. Just need to go over it again when I have some free time to make sure the chorus and the bridges work. Actually, the middle 8/refrain bothers me. I was hoping for something in a nice key change, but this feels too pedestrian, without lifting the piece to where I want it for the finale. Might need to consult my songwriting partner to see if he has any ideas. I wrote it all on guitar, which might be what’s bothering me, since it was meant to be written on keys, like Born to Run and Thunder Road. But the progression is pretty close to B2R without plagiarizing, so I think it does what’s needed. I even found a nice guitar riff/chord progression to go out on. Just gotta take some more time to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and then demo it and start laying down the tracks.

The underdrawing for the first Tarot painting isn’t any closer to being finished than it was a few days ago. Been stalling. I can’t quite work out why. I think I’m afraid of messing it up, like there’s some judge out there grading me on this. I want to use a bunch of references to get my details right, but it’s not a place that actually exists, so what references I can use is a question. Also, out of toner for the printer, so printing reference sheets is a little difficult just now.

Might do a couple of album reviews. I’ve been stalling, but there ARE a couple of albums this year that I’ve been wanting to write about: Bowie’s Blackstar, and Anderson/Stolt’s Invention of Knowledge. Might also go back and review Toto’s XIV. The album has stuck with me. Listening to it right now. It still stands up beautifully. We’ll see.

The Link Worlds Game is still percolating. Anyone wanna work on a board game? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Eratica comes home soon, IIRC. I’ll be looking for buyers again shortly. More similar works to come.

I designed a new cover for The BACK ROADS of LIMBO. The original was incomplete, and a little confusing, I guess. No one has bought a copy that I didn’t sign myself. It’s got some of my best short story writing in it, but no one wants it. *sigh*

I have at least one more collaborative painting with Dawn to finish, though I’m hoping to get an even dozen for a show next year. Dawn thoughtfully assembled the most recent one, though it needs some touch-ups before I varnish it. Sorry, no photos, please. Come to the show, when I get it going.

The Anvil might be in trouble. No money for the new year. Brandon says there are no grants for us. This sucks. We need ad sales to make this sustainable, but haven’t got the trained/skilled sales staff to hustle up ads right now. Might have to try my hand at it. Not anticipating much success.

I’ve got about 25 #yesLRT buttons to give away. Comment below if you want one, or message me on Facebook.

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Okay, what’s going on here? I posted a few days ago, but my website says I haven’t posted in weeks. Weird.

Site’s probably going to be down for a week or two, until we get things paid up. I’ll keep folks posted if anything important happens on one of my free websites.

Friends of mine sold one of my paintings, Frenzy. Still have to collect the money and distribute the commission payments.

Still trying to get the drawing done for The Fool. It’s gotta be a really tight line drawing, so I can paint without getting lost and painting stuff that doesn’t look real.

Link Worlds game development is on hiatus again. Waiting to hear if Rodney wants in. If not, I may kick it open to another friend or two. Rod is a good partner, but he’s busy.

My upcoming Sci-Fi novel is on hold. Can’t seem to get the plots resolved. Need to spend some time in the mind map program on my tablet, sorting things out. This is a priority project, though, so I’ll get it hashed out sooner or later. The stories are good. Just not fleshed out enough and gelling right, yet.

Band and solo albums are still on hold. Gary’s perpetually busy anyway. Probably next year.

Stinson Creative Lab is going to be my area of focus for community outreach for the next while. I’ve stepped down as co-chair of the Stinson Community Association. I’m not good at bureaucratic rigamarole, and feel I can help better from outside the establishment than from within. Not a dig on the SCA. I just don’t feel like I was effective in that format.

Might do some more stipple drawings, but other than some lists, I don’t have anything planned out yet.

I have other things, but that seems to be all that’s coming to mind. OH! And the next Anvil issue, which is still percolating, will be on the subject of Women’s Issues. Heady stuff, folks.

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Weirdest thing. I woke up from dreaming most of an original rapidfire timed historical quest chain for ‪#‎WorldofWarcraft‬ in my head. Never really had one of those before. I think I could write it down if I do it now.

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I’m part way into plotting this WoW quest, even though it will probably never see the light of day. I’ve played a bit of WoW over the years since Dawn and I essentially quit, but really, I don’t have any illusions about working for Blizzard or anything like that. Honestly, if I was going to work for a big franchise, I’d probably prefer to write for Doctor Who. But this is a fun idea, and I don’t want it vanishing until I’ve caught some of it down. I’m considering plopping it into the unfinished fanfic collection I was going to publish for free and give away to people who ordered one of my books. I may take another swing at finishing that up this year, to go out with the two books I’m trying to work on now.

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Listening to some classic 80s progressive pop music from my hero, Anthony Phillips, while working on this plot for the quest. I even did a wee bit of research to ground it a bit. Less certain it needs to be written up and included in the fanfic book, but if I DO write it up as I dreamed it, it would be a shoe-in for the collection. I haven’t worked on that in a while because I got bogged down on two stories I really wanted to write: ‘Ferris Bueller’s Lost Weekend’, and ‘Shadow On The Door’. The former was inspired by that dreadful car commercial that invaded Super Bowl Sunday a few years ago and broke my heart. It’s the 31st anniversary of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off this year, and it’s really time I finished that up. The latter is an ode to one of my favourite rock albums of all time, Synchronicity, by the Police. I love that album so much , I tried to incorporate its bare bones into a novel I planned on writing a couple of years ago, to no avail. I may still write that novel someday, but meanwhile, there’s this perfectly good concept for a novella that needs to happen.

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Meanwhile, I have the third issue of The Anvil to work on (The Art and Music Issue ~or as I like to call it~ The Issue with Art and Music), The CONSTANT SEA OF NIGHT waiting for me to return to work on it, and CUSTOMS AND ROAD SONGS of LIMBO, my taboo-exploring wayward stepsister of The BACK ROADS of LIMBO, also on deck. I have LIMBO TAROT: The Fool sitting on my easel. I have a collaboration with my wife, called ‘Rage Sunflowers’, to prepare and complete, and I have designs for the rest of the Tarot series, and also the CHAOS & ORDER collaboration series to work out with Dawn. I keep promising myself I’ll get together with my songwriting partner, Gary, and work on a new album of material. I also still itch to complete Steep Inclinations, an album I’ve been planning since I was in college in ’92.

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The Constant Sea of Night gained two more stories, which I’m working to fit into my tale, up in my head, as they haven’t quite managed to come to live on the screen. I do remember writing a little about ‘Giant‘ somewhere (possibly in this blog), but the notes I put in the Scrivener page are pretty spare:

“A middle-aged nanopoet discovers the body of his best friend and mentor, the famous sympop composer Vera Linn, murdered by genefascists before completing her masterpiece, and vows to complete the work in her stead.”

I collected my notes from the blog, and even started working on the story again, which is nice. I hope it continues.

TL;DR Version: This is a special album, in both the truest sense and in the short bus sense. It’s a flawed masterpiece in disguise, but you have to dig in to really find what it might have been like if it hadn’t been marred by very parochial 80s production values.

‘Splain, Lucy Version: The only problem I have with Ant’s short career as a rock musician is that his ‘final’ pop album, The Invisible Men is somewhat hit and miss, in comparison to Wise After The Event and Sides. Three of the first four songs are truly great songs, but the rest of the album teeters between solid rock songs with fine performances from Ant on guitar, synth and vocals, with some great drumming in places, but a lot of thinly-recorded drum machine parts and esoteric 80s arrangements throughout.

Boring Version: If you’re not intrigued yet, you probably won’t be by anything else I write in this blog. Take a miss.

For the rest of you, I’ll just add to what I’ve said before about Ant by saying that I have heard tell that Cherry Records, the company that is remastering and redistributing his classic solo works, is teasing a new album out of him, which I have my hopes will be the long awaited return to rock music I have been dying to hear for decades. I may be setting myself up for slight disappointment, but it’s worth the pain to hope that he might have an album of proper songs to contribute to the 21st century.

THE REVIEW:

Golden Bodies is a teensy bit cheesy. It’s fun. The lyrics are cheeky. I don’t dislike it at all. It’s just slight, compared to some other pieces on the album.

The Women Were Watching is a strong and poignant number with a great new wave arrangement and a lyric that discusses the irony of watching the men march off to the Falkland War in the early 80s.

Traces is perhaps the prettiest, most touching love song in Anthony Phillips’ canon. The irony that it lives on this album he seemingly has no love for is striking. I love this song, and have promised myself to cover it someday.

Exocet returns to the theme of the Falkland War, and does it with some more grit and aggression. Strong piece.

Love In A Hot Air Balloon is as slight and goofy as the title suggests. Not a bad song. An earnest attempt at a fun late 70s/early 80s pop song.

Going For Broke is a tour de force.

Falling For Love has a nice bass line and arrangement, but the chorus is a bit conventional, though the guitar and synth horn solos redeem it.

Sally is a fun tune with a pretty respectable synth brass riff; the sax solos, though well done, are perhaps a bit too cliché. Fun song, though.

I Want Your Heart is an interesting and unorthodox synth pop number with a strange drum machine breakbeat and a pulsing synth string section in the bass, and the vocal performance is pretty solid. The synth solo is fun if short, and the only thing holding the song back is that it is a bit straightforward in song structure, and could perhaps do with some more live-sounding drums.

Guru is a good lyric with a smart story marred by a slightly lacklustre song (for me). Not bad. Not hatefully so, at any rate, but we get more R&B sax and drum machine, which I suspect makes the song sound a little too dated and bland. Interesting arrangement, but not compelling.

It’s Not Easy is not bad, but extremely conventional, and the female vocal is a sort of generic female R&B backing singer that seems to cement it as a sort of deliberate attempt to court the radio. I believe it failed resoundingly.

My Time Has Come is actually a lovely piece of twelve-string work floating through a proper rock arrangement, very much in the Genesis mold of recording. I’ve never really taken it too seriously before, but the more I listen to it critically, the more it occurs to me that it wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Trespass, or perhaps The Lamb, if he’d remained with the band up to that point.

Trail of Tears is an instrumental which opens with a drum machine producing a bit of a dirgelike march. The wall of synth parts does little to dispel this until the beat changes and the synth parts start lilting and galloping through the verse section. It goes on a nice little jaunt, but for me, it sounds perhaps too much like some of Ant’s work on Ahead of The Field. It wouldn’t have been out of place on an action TV show of the late 70s or early 80s.

The Ballad of Penlee is a demo with piano and vocal, and some synth string parts. It’s maudlin and doesn’t really take me far. It reminds me of some of Ant’s work on Sides, and in particular Bleak House, which took me some time to warm to. It’s not bad. It’s just not a very engaging number.

Alex is an instrumental piece that has a nice body to it, and reminds me favourably of Tony Banks’ work on The Wicked Lady. The problem is that, as usual by this point, it has some pretty mediocre drum machine all over it, which it probably could have lived without. Even a pop drum track could have saved this from sounding like what it invariably is: an outtake.

SUMMARY:

I actually love this album, and it grows on me more with every year. But I consider it a personal favourite, and never argue its merits with anyone in the wider Genesis community, because it was, perhaps unfairly, but not grossly so, a critical and commercial flop. Much like Tony Banks, Ant has long had a problem identifying what elements of his musical vision stand him in good stead with rock audiences, and meanders a bit on this album.

All that said, if I had one wish involving Anthony Phillips, I’d dearly love to be able to afford to produce a proper progressive rock album with him again. Prog is back. Why shouldn’t Ant finally have his day in the spotlight… even if it’s of necessity from back stage?

Okay, I’ve been trying to do my part on the latest issue of The Anvil, but everything keeps kinda going sideways. We should have a new printer shortly. Our previous one went out of business without notifying us. Print news isn’t dead yet, but it’s not in great shape. Not at all.

I have two sets of comic strips to draw. No idea if they’ll be done in time for the print.

I’ve also been playing with the idea of re-releasing Terminal Monday, owing to corrections I’ve had to make recently to get it back up on Smashwords’ premium catalogue, including quite a few spelling corrections I did for giggles. I was shocked to see how many typos had crept in there, the little bastards.

I’ve pretty much completed another collaboration with my wife/agent/manager/partner, Dawn, which has had the provisional working title ‘Rage Sunflowers’ for a few months now. It was threatening to be a mediocre piece, but I went back to work on it the other day, and over the last few days, forced it to become something special. It should impress a few people. And we’re prepping another piece for the same show; basically an extension of the Chaos & Order series. We’re talking eight to ten in total. I had concepts for a whole series, but scrapped it because it wasn’t Dawn’s cup of tea. This collaboration thing is harder than I remember it being.

I’ve also also not made any real progress on the Tarot series. I fear I’ve lost momentum. too much going on. I can hardly wait for all of this volunteer work to dry up, so I can focus entirely on my career(s) again.

And that album I promised? Not sure which one, at this point, but I know it won’t be done this year. Sorry. The Etcetera Thesis concept album is stumping me. I may return to the drawing board and tweak the plot until it feels good. We’ll see. And as for The People’s Republic of Limbo stuff? Probably not going to happen any time soon. Gary and I are talking about doing something brand new, instead, but when we actually do that is anybody’s guess.

I have Dreamfall Chapters. I’ve started playing it. It’s good. Just haven’t had enough time to sit and play it much. *sigh*

And finally, I’m thinking that it would be a good idea to move away from Hamilton and start over somewhere else where, perhaps, my art and writing and music careers can thrive. I’d like to make more than one or two sales in a year. Not sure how difficult that will actually be, since I’ve been an ODSP recipient for a handful of years now, and my saleable skills are as a graphic designer, which every monkey with an illegal copy of Adobe Creative Suite or free copies of GIMP and Inkscape think they can do better than the pros.

Ignorance is a powerful tool, used correctly. *chuckles*

It’s too darned hot, and the rent is too damn high. Thank you for reading.

The old man noted, as he put the empty glass down on the table, that the scotch was going down particularly easy tonight. It wasn’t often that it did this, because the stuff really isn’t made for that kind of drinking. Usually this would be a sign that it was time to stop.

He poured another. He called it a finger, but it was probably more like two, in the wide round bottom of the rocks glass. Nicest gift anyone had ever given to him for the kitchen. One had already broken earlier in the year, but this one was holding up just fine. Its strangely patterned golden rim nearly matched the golden glint in the liquid that seemed almost to move by itself, in the dim light of early morning.

The man stroked his hand gently across the table, a deep, glossy cherry wood with a strong stain that almost reminded him of the curls of her hair, as if she was trapped under glass. As if she were only trapped under glass, and not under the ground. Athena.

He remembered the first time they’d met, and how Karen had insisted they bring her home. He’d never seen Karen so happy to bring another woman into their home. A wry grin crossed his lips even now. Karen never felt jealous of Athena, which was fair. Karen and Athena were great together. Karen just couldn’t live with him. But Athena could. She stayed. Thank God, she stayed.

Smartest eyes, always reading him. Always knew when it was time to come sit beside him, park herself at his side on the sofa, lean against him to remind him she was there. Knew when to leave him be, when to be at his side, when to get in his face and remind him it was time to do other things besides brood. Karen never really understood that, but Athena did.

It didn’t seem to matter after that. He’d won and lost the hearts of a few very brave, very lovely women, and they had all loved him in their way. Athena had taken to them all in turn, accepting them and helping them get used to how things worked around the house. One of them had joked that he never considered marrying again because he’d secretly married Athena and merely had mistresses on the side. Ridiculous statement, but perhaps with a kernel of truth.

You can’t replace human companionship with the love of an animal. Not if you’re healthy. Not if you aren’t already a little damaged inside to begin with, and simply can’t connect to people anymore. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been like that for him. Athena just knew. She just made sense. And she knew he needed other things, so she never got in his way, although she did occasionally get in his face about the scotch.

He stopped to take another drink. He watched the liquid slowly, lazily roll around in the glass, sliding down the inside of the glass the way wine does. He’d stopped drinking wine some time ago. Wine was for companions. Scotch was for drinking alone. Athena knew that, too.

The park was like a personal little hell now. He still went for walks, alone, thinking of the past, the people he’d loved, the things they’d done. And always Athena there in the foreground, leading the walks, haring off after something interesting. Athena wasn’t a hunter. A herder, actually. Strange, bright blue eyes, splashes of cherry and ash on her white coat. Always rounding up children and friends who were straggling. Athena was a den mom. She’d come home pretty young, but she’d been with him such a long time. He had to stop and think how many years. Was it fifteen? Did it really matter? Athena had been there forever. Was still there.

Except that she wasn’t.

He slammed back the rest of the glass. Reached for the bottle again. Remembered those eyes imploring him. Held the bottle in front of him. He watched the liquid move around the bottle’s dark brown glass. Fifteen year old scotch. Smoother but richer tasting. This bottle had been distilled and bottled the year Athena was born. They’d aged together. Both of them very expensive, and well worth the price.

What the hell was he thinking? There was no comparison. He’d lost loves that had lasted longer than this bottle would, especially at this rate. Athena was irreplaceable. A lifetime of distilling would not recreate another like her.

He’d never had children. Never wanted to commit to children, in case the relationship didn’t last. Somehow couldn’t get past his fear of being a failure as a father, the way he’d failed so many loves. And over the years, it had just gotten easier to accept that he didn’t need children. And anyway, there was Athena, best daughter he could have hoped for. He could sire daughters from here to the grave and none would know him the way she had.

Cancer. How the hell does a dog get cancer? Dogs should not die of diseases that kill humans. They should be exempt. They weren’t corrupt in the soul. They were pure of heart and brave and true. Dogs shouldn’t have to die the way people died. Dogs should never have to experience tragedy. They didn’t deserve it.

Athena.

The old man put the bottle back on the table, noticed the glinting golden light wavering in lazy oceanic patterns on the surface of the smooth satin finish of the cherry wood table. He walked slowly to the door, slipped into his shoes and shrugged on his autumn tweed jacket. He draped the scarf around either side of his neck, and then reflexively reached for the leash hanging behind the door. Gripping it, he let his weight settle slightly against its reassuring heft, solidly fixed to the metal hook. He could hear the leather strap creak slightly. He heard a choking noise, and noticed it was his voice. He let go of the leash, and dabbed at his eyes with the end of his black and white checked scarf.

It was a bright, mild autumn day outside. Good day for a long walk. A good day to go see everything like it was brand new, and find new adventures in familiar places. A good day for friends. He wondered idly what Karen was up to, and thought to give her a quick call. Shaking his head, he locked up and went out instead. Maybe later.

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I recently revised the information about RETURN TRIP, the last book I wrote and published on Smashwords, about a year and a half ago (Yes, it’s been that long. Sorry). I wanted to write something short and pithy about it to see if I could give the book a second lease on life, based on what I latterly decided was perhaps a slightly misleading–or just misguided–attempt to drum up some extra drama for the book with its original release.

I originally wrote this:Richard Burley is dead. Long Live Richard Burley.

When is Death not an ending, but a beginning? Perhaps it’s when your spirit crosses over to the afterworld, or maybe your atoms scatter across teh cosmos and add to the total callective consciousness of the universe. Or could it be that the myriad forces and energies that intersected at the nexus of reality that is you will simply divvy up your total potential energy amongst your alternate selves? Whatever the ultimate answer you choose to believe in, it comes down tot he same basic premise: that your essence is eternal, and thus, death is, as the poets say, just a door to another level of perception.

When Richard Burley lay dead on the hospital floor, perhaps some of his friends were convinced that that would be the last chapter in his story. A few suspected otherwise, and his handicapped brother spent many months trying to convicne anyone who would listen that he had simply stepped across the threshold of the world and into a mirror reality, where he could watch over them from afar.

But what is Richard’s ultimate fate? Will he go to Heaven or Hell? Will he transcend reality for a higher plane of consciousness? Will he dissipate and leave his friends lost and wondering if they can carry on without him? And, knowing what we do about Richard’s mental health, how can we be sure that his death isn’t just other another psychotic fantasy?

I decided to replace it with this:Richard Burley is dead. Long Live Richard Burley.

This isn’t the sort of supernatural story you might suspect it is. It’s really an examination of the possibilities of what it is to be Richard Burley, which in a real sense is an examination of what it means to be YOU. For Richard isn’t just my alter ego; he’s yours, too. He’s a little like everyone, and a lot like no one you know.

In essence, this is the story of some of the many alternate realities that are somehow affected by Richard’s untimely death, and his efforts to help them recover, so that he can move on, or come back, or do whatever it is he’s going to do by the end of the book. Read it yourself and find out.

Incidentally, for those wondering, there are at least two stories in this collection that are basically rock and roll fanfic, including a rather lovely story featuring someone not entirely unlike the late, great Chris Squire of Yes fame, and a short piece about an aging rock star who isn’t entirely unlike Roger Hodgson, formerly of Supertramp.

I did this yesterday. It had to be reviewed and approved, so i logged off and went and did other things. Today, I figured I’d check and see if it had been approved yet. Instead, I got this notification telling me the book has been flagged for some mistake in the Table of Contents (NCX), because ‘chapters are missing. They’re not. I actually meant for the second book to be numbered consecutively to follow the first, picking up with chapter 16. I sent them a note to tell them this. Now I’m waiting to see if they revise their decision. If I have to renumber it, I can, and I guess I will, but it seems kind of a waste of time, since no one has ever read the book, in any case. I pretty much killed it and decided not to write the final act. The only thing stopping em from unpublishing it is the stigma it will create with the other book selling companies if I develop a reputation for unpublishing works.

So I wait.

Meanwhile, I’m working on a very old painting idea I had back in college, but never completed. I’m doing a small acrylic colour study to test the technique I’m thinking of using, before applying it to my Limbo Tarot Fool.

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THE APPROXIMATE DISTANCE TO LIMBOAct 1: Sudden Departures – Richard and the gang from TERMINAL MONDAY are back, but things have changed, and not all for the better. The friends of Wanda have all moved away or fallen off the radar, and one of their number may be in serious trouble.SMASHWORDS | CREATESPACE (PRINT) | KINDLE | KOBO | APPLE

Act 2: Return Trip – Richard has had a life-changing event (i.e. his murder), but there is yet life in the unstable curmudgeon. Join Richard on his trip down many roads to piecing together the remains of his shattered life.SMASHWORDS | CREATESPACE (PRINT) | KINDLE | KOBO | APPLE | GOODREADS

Act 3: The Third Rail – Richard tries to take care of unfinished business and get some closure on his failed marriage and the string of love affairs he had following its demise. He also tries to deal with the fallout of his mental health, and tries to find a better way to live his life.This book will not get written after all. It was going to revisit Richard and his friends one more time and clear up some stuff from the first two acts, but nobody read the previous two volumes, so it doesn’t seem worth doing. Sorry.

THE BACK ROADS OF LIMBO
A series of short stories and novellas about spies, sultans, genies, detectives, bad angels, a man’s best friend, the God of Squirrels, Christmas dinner for two, thieves, sorceresses, lost children, working while you sleep, writer’s block, soul-eating vampires, and a giant squid.PRINT | KINDLE

TERMINAL MONDAY: a Dream of New York City
A man meets an old girlfriend who convinces him to return to novel writing, but not before his wife leaves him, he gets his old band back together, and suffers a nervous breakdown.PRINT | KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

TERMINAL MONDAY: Under Observation
A man has a mental breakdown and wakes up to find himself under observation in a New York City hospital.KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

ASHES: Infinite Redress
A scientist becomes infected by a space-borne virus that contains the soul of an alien missionary who bonds with her and draws her into solving the mystery of how the aliens all died.KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

The BRIDE of WAR
A knight falls in love with a young woman designated to be sacrificed to a mystical dragon, and undertakes a quest to learn how to defeat the dragon and break the centuries-old pact.PRINT | KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS

LINKTALES volume one
(excerpts from The Dark Guild) A series of mysterious events lead to the old city of Londonis being invaded by soul-eating vampires.KINDLE | KOBO | NOOK | SONY | APPLE | SMASHWORDS